


The Aftermath of Shock

by imladrissun



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9928910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imladrissun/pseuds/imladrissun
Summary: What happens after you survive is the hard part, the living day after day.





	1. Chapter 1

Spock found himself seeking out the Doctor. Even though they were back on Earth, it didn't matter. There was always something to have a second opinion on, or need a suggestion for. It had started much earlier, he saw now. It had become a pattern. Time began to make him see their encounters in a deeper light.

His interest was piqued by him, he realized. He and McCoy had spent a lot of time together after the crisis was over, on the ship. Jim relied on him heavily, in every way. As a friend, advisor, and CMO, McCoy was essentially the functioning 'adult' of the ship. He was the oldest of them, in a sense. Spock felt he acted older than his actual age, anyway, making the point moot. When he and Jim 'got into it', as the Doctor said, it was McCoy who would force Jim to step back and hear counsel. 

Oddly, he often smoothed through compromises by making Jim move a little closer to Spock's position. He was a mediator between them, and Spock had realized he favored him quite a lot. It was strange, but Jim didn't seem surprised that his best friend was not behind many of his opinions and ideas. 

And that he was siding with the person who threw him onto an icy hell of a planet. None of them had ever talked about it, but Spock was quite sure they both still held it against them. Although, really, the Doctor never thought it when he was near him -- his feelings were often so strong that Spock could feel them through osmosis instead of touch telepethy. 

Trying to get back to Earth without the warp cores meant limping to the nearest space station like a poor old horse, as the Doctor said. He never spoke of the past, and Spock appreciated it. McCoy acted like nothing had happened, in a way. When they were together, they just bickered like usual. There was no talk of his mother, or anything else. 

Spock felt adrift, and alone in his mind without the mental link to Vulcan and his mother. McCoy was a welcome constant. Even being in his presence was soothing, in a way. The Doctor had his unspoken, undying gratitude for not advising him to go speak to a counselor, or to him. It would have been strange, as if the situation wasn't already.

Having his father onboard just made it stranger. He wanted somehow to retreat from him, to keep himself alone. Both the Captain and McCoy were exceptions, he knew. He wanted Leonard with him in his aloneness, and wasn't that a thought that should prompt a red alert. It was instinctive, and he coudn't be bothered to sound out the details of the logic of it. ...If there were any. 

Kirk wanted to spend time with him daily--clearly shaken by all that had happened. He seemed very young and insecure. McCoy was always included during these times, seemingly by default, and even though the Captain phrased the request as work related, the sessions were not.

Jim often looked to McCoy for confirmation and affirmation, he noticed. Spock found himself looking to the Doctor for attention, and decided he didn't care. It was satisfying to have debates on a variety of topics with him. For all his bluster, Spock could feel his protectiveness and care for him when he was accidentally touching him while waving his hands.

He did that a lot during arguements -- 88.4 percent of the time, to be precise. He often accidentally made contact with Spock's shoulder or arm while unconsciously tossing his hands about. Even through his blue science uniform shirt, Spock could immediately feel his emotions. They were always boiling over, always passionate. And always positive, when they were about him, despite the discrepency with his tone and words. 

Spock quite enjoyed the feeling of being liked in such a strong way. Nyota had cared for him in a much more temperate, normal way. She wasn't so high strung and, as many muttered, as 'crazy' as the Doctor [though an ensign had said this in regard to McCoy's propensity to speak sharply to Jim and he himself]. He had overhead many crew members speak about him in reverential terms as well, due to the many successful operations he had already performed. 

Spock looked forward to what Jim called their 'post-work' meetings from the first. He relished the Doctor's argumentative spirit; the rest of the crew, and his father, were silent around him. He caught himself suddenly desiring the sound of McCoy's teasing at random times, or his run on sentences, punctuated his pouting little snappish tirades as they tossed words back and forth. 

It was oddly relaxing: the Doctor was always himself, and most importantly, he was never afraid of Spock. ... Especially after he'd choked Jim. Most people gave him a wide berth, to his chagrin.

McCoy never acted like he pitied him, or felt he was so different that they could not bicker, and harrangue, and argue. He seemed to not care that he was his superior officer, or that he was much stronger than him. It made him feel normal, he realized. McCoy did not stand on formality, or ceremony, or really act like Spock was who he was, which was a scientific genius, supposedly the only hybird Vulcan alive, and the sole heir of his father's estate. And his father was what the Doctor would term 'a little lord, too high up for his own good' [he had said that about an Admiral Rice from Earth], though he appreciated his family's status and wealth. 

Though it had been a cold comfort during his life on Vulcan. 

McCoy was one of the few that treated him 'normally'. Just as the Doctor harped over Kirk's womanizing, propensity to get into trouble, his supposed 'billions' of fatal allergies, his impulsivity, his youth, and his lack of experience, he treated Spock the same way. He criticized them both.

And indeed, Spock was relieved and pleased to return the favor in full. In those moments, he forgot everything that had happened and simply focused on returning McCoy's sally with his best effort. It had to include everything that would push the Doctor's buttons, as he liked to say--he spoke of his passion for saving lives and aleviating pain as over-emotionalism, he pointed out that his clear, total honesty was the opposite of being restrained and polite, and so on.

It was very easy to provoke a response. In fact, the only time he had failed in eliciting one was when McCoy had been ill, and was too tired and unwell to muster up a reply. Jim's face had gone grey to see his silence and disorientation. 

Their arguments were their normal. It relaxed the tension in Spock's shoulders, to be in that familiar mental space with Leonard. He had, in the last few days, found a scientific pretext to ask the Doctor's opinion on a few open studies in one of the laboratories on ship, and McCoy had complied. He knew the Doctor felt the same way he did, if only because he did not mention the fact that the science labs were empty, mostly. And he touched his wrist by accident, so he was sure he wanted to be there. With him.

Spock felt conversing with McCoy was almost an equivalent of meditation, in terms of relaxation. It was a great use of free time, when his mind didn't have a problem to focus on, and started to linger on death and emptiness. 

The few times he had been injured already [while helping Mr. Scott in engineering], McCoy had been too worried and desirous of stopping the bleeding from his head wound to put on psi-nulling gloves. His forearm had slightly touched Spocks temple [on the other, unwounded side], over and over. 

The repetative contact allowed the natural chemistry between their minds to strengthen again and again.

It felt incredible. Like relaxing on a soft, warm bed in perfect safety and comfort. McCoy's protective feelings poured through, sunshine on the soft, cool summer grass of his mental landscape. His mental imagery was always beautiful, and he kept a very well-organized mind, except for the flowing river beside the endless landscape. The water rushed and burbled, always with different, unstoppable emotions, but they were going past, not overwhelming him. 

They passed quickly by Spock, he was safe on the land. Leonard's mind gave him a strange sense of peacefulness that made him feel suffused with grounding, feeling tethered to something, now that Vulcan itself was gone. And his family. 

They kept meeting together, and with Jim as well, and Spock relished each time. He anticipated their next meeting, and would choose topics that the Doctor might enjoy--or not, but either way it was on purpose. 

Jim was soothed and excited by their interactions; he enjoyed watching them speak. He did not hide it at all. Spock appreciated his clear approval of their growing acquaintance. As a group of three, they were an optimal unit. Their diverse experiences and fields of study perfectly complemented each other, and created a balanced, moderate outcome. As opposed to Jim's approach [wild abandon], and Spock's [logical study before acting] and McCoy's, which was simply to fly the ship back to Earth and leave him there.

Spock decided that it was too early to tell him that he did not wish for them to be parted, even though they were just acquaintences. 

And yes, he was well aware it was an inappropriate wish.

He could sense their instinctive connection, and knew he would not desire to be permanently separated from the Doctor. Even if he chose to go to New Vulcan, there would have to be some medical work done that only McCoy could do, he was sure, he hoped at least. The man was very susceptible to sob stories, as Jim phrased it. Spock was absolutely willing to exploit the plight of his people if it meant McCoy would relocate with him. 

But he wasn't sure that he himself wanted to live on New Vulcan. He wasn't sure he'd ever want to. He usually tried not to think about it at all.

For all his grousing, Spock had felt in his mind that he loved what they had managed to accomplish during the disaster [the people who were saved, the successful surgeries], and that he cared deeply for both the Captain and himself. Especially him. Jim joked about it sometimes, especially when the Doctor agreed with him instead of his best friend.

Neither of them did anything about their connection, and Spock was fine with that. It was a secret promise, something he could rely on. He didn't have to reply, or talk about it, or engage the Doctor in a romantic way. He just knew with certainty that Leonard was going to wait for him, alone, until they were both someday ready. He could relax. Neither of them were fickle, changeable people. 

He greatly appreciated that the Doctor didn't require anything of him. Well, except for superficial insults, of course. Those, he was happy to supply. He felt tired, in some incorporeal way, and had no energy for 'performing' love.

The best part was, he had checked McCoy's multi-layered rush of feelings -- he prefered it that way too. He wanted Spock to be free, until the future, when they had both gotten a chance to get used to things and settle themselves down, Spock in terms of the disaster, and McCoy in terms of being in space at all. 

He did not like it, Spock was unsurprised to find out. And he had aviaphobia. He was certainly unique, he thought with affection as he set up another experiment in one of the science labs.


	2. Chapter 2

Spock was confused when Jim retreated into his own space after being revived by the Doctor. It had been an intense time for all of them, and he knew he felt regret at how three of them were interacting differently -- distantly, quietly. 

McCoy had retreated a bit from the Captain in the aftermath of his resurrection. With his role as a physician no longer needed, he seemed almost at loose ends. There were months ahead of them before the next mission headed out. Until then, they had to come together, he decided. Spock focused on brainstorming ways to engage with him, and with Jim, and they with each other, but had had no success. 

He had tried a variety of things, mostly Earth traditions of social gathering. He couched the invitations in terms of work, requiring a second opinion about something, and noticing something they had an interest in [that they should see for themselves immediately]. To his surprise, and pleasure, he and McCoy's relationship had blossomed, to an incredible degree. 

Just being close to him felt perfect. There was no sense of incompletion, even though they had not even touched hands. Even beside him, untouching, was enough. McCoy was so solid, so there. A passionate, strong mind--soul--and he was the reliable, always there, always concerned presence Spock loved. 

He had recently realized this was what love was. An overwhelming feeling of being safe, yet challenged; being cherished, but given honesty at the same time; of being teased but adored. His favorite thing to see in regards to social gatherings that required him and the Doctor as well was for others to attempt to get McCoy to argue with them.

Spock was aware that their arguments were well known, even by those not on the Bridge. Some sought the Doctor out to bait, banter or argue with him, but none succeeded. McCoy would concede the point, dismiss them with a wave of the hand, shrug, or go do some work he chose to focus on. 

He only gave his time and attention to Spock. In that way, he was all his. McCoy was surprisingly amenable to 'hanging out' with him, and Spock made sure they did it constantly. If he was reading or working, why not do it in his company?

Leonard was very quiet, and studious, when at his own devices. Unlike Jim's boisterous love of fun, adventure and people, the Doctor was much softer. He was gentle, spent his days working on papers and research, and drinking tea next to Spock. He had his sweet tea, which he made himself in his little kitchen, and Spock had a popular Federation tea variety that reminded him vaguely of one from his childhood [but not too much, so that he was not discomfited by it. He had chosen it particularly for that reason]. 

He had never noticed how close they sat together, how easy their sharing a room was. On the ship, something was always happening, but here, in Leonard's rooms, he just shared a couch with him calmly. 

Instead of trying to practice medicine at the hospitals nearby, Leonard had apparently chosen to exclusively work on research by himself. Spock was pleased with his choice. They spent many days together.

He could tell Leonard was relaxed by being near him like this. He seemed to feel comfortable, in some amorphous way. Spock could feel it pouring off his skin, despite not actually touching him. 

They still argued, of course, but it was second nature to them. It felt satisfying to engage in that manner. And afterward, when one of them had scored a good point, the look on his face... the open care for him, the respect. It would change for a few moments into just what Spock thought of [well, mentally classified] as love. 

It was possession and the enjoyment of being possessed in return. It was contentment and security with a sense of euphoria rolling by. He knew he felt flushed, and saw the other's pupils dilate. Neither of them did anything, and Spock could feel through their rudimentary connection that Leonard's wishes and desires mirrored his. 

He liked this. Their loving, innocent co-habitation. Really, Spock was over at his place so much that Leonard had joked he should move in. He had felt the truth of that feeling under his words. It had not been a joke in his heart. 

But he did not want to crowd Leonard, or pressure him. He and Jim often spoke of the Doctor, and he had gotten to hear all about his acrimonious divorce. They had never succeeded in having children, and she had passed later while riding in a speeding hovercraft with her new beau. 

Almost everyone the Doctor had known or cared for on earth were dead. Spock felt he was in a way almost solely responsible for looking after him, especially since Kirk had admitted he had difficulty in directing the Doctor. It was Leonard who took care of him, it seemed, and he didn't think it worked the other way around. Jim was very aggravated by this, but had not found a solution.

Even though the Doctor rarely drank, and even then not to excess, Jim seemed preoccupied with it. He worried about it, and had tried to get Spock onboard with his wish to lower Leonard's consumption. 

There seemed to be no reason for this in terms of Leonard's actual behavior or history [Spock had investigated him intensely.... just for thoroughness], so he assumed it must be some problem on Jim's part. Some experience that he had had with a person who abused alcohol. 

Accordingly, when with both of them, Spock often requested beforehand privately, to Leonard that he try some particular teas with him. Despite the Doctor's outward skepticism toward alien medicine and religion, he enjoyed trying new things when he had someone to share the experience with. He quite openly liked hearing Spock's opinion on things. On anything. 

They compared different green, white, chai, oolong, puer and then ones foreign to the Doctor, like Limpë tea, and tea from Methedras. 

Spock could see that this solved Jim's problem quite neatly, and it allowed them to have many enjoyable outings together, all three of them. He liked that feeling, that belongingness as they walked down the streets together, half-together crammed in a smush as they tried to get down the sidewalk as a threesome. His forearm, and almost his hands would brush against Leonard's as they walked. 

It was a very enjoyable sensation. The Doctor would tease him when he baited him with deliberately obtuse remarks about Earth's everything, and call him a walking computer, and he loved feeling Leonard's emotions under it all, that spirit, and fierce protective love for the two of them, and his cognizance that Spock would technically want to be called a computer, because wasn't he always trying to be a perfect Vulcan?

The Doctor knew exactly what he was saying, and Spock was pleased at his thoughts. When they sat together in the crowded restaurants, their hands often lay next to each other, often touching unintentionally. He could hear their connection quite perfectly. It was foolish to care about such things, but he was still proud to feel Leonard think that he was already a perfect, non-emotion-ed being, so he could relax when they were together and just be himself, whatever combo of human and alien he felt like. 

That he could act however he wanted to, because he was already a better logic machine than any other Vulcan. Leonard's feelings about him were always a rush to sense. He couldn't get enough. 

He knew that Jim could tell something had happened with them, but he offered no comment. Jim didn't bring it up either, and he had a feeling that Leonard had not chosen to dicuss it with him. He could sense an undercurrent of light jealously and fear in Jim's eyes, once in a while, at their closeness, and he didn't want that. He did not feel that way vice versa--and there was no need to.

Jim gave Leonard something he could not: a shared experience, a similar beingness. He gave the Doctor a different set of things. Both were necessary and prized; loved in diverse, yet equal ways. He took pains to ensure Jim was included with them often, and was happy to not mention his own idea of what he had been planning on suggesting they do if the Doctor said Jim had called him. 

Their bond sustained them; Spock wanted it healthy. He knew he would one day want their own, private bond to flourish, but not yet. Leonard wasn't there yet, and neither was he. They were building the foundation, and it was luxurious. 

He had never spared any thought for what a Vulcan bond would truly be, other than a required, pragmatic, emotionless one with some lady of his people, as was their custom. Now he knew what a natural, organic bond was, even in its infancy: a bottomless pool in the ocean, deeper than one could reach, silent and dark and comforting. It was a sense of endless possibility, and no worry, or haste.


	3. Chapter 3

In the interim of missions, Spock preferred to use his time focusing on various scientific experiments, whether alone or with the assistance of the top members of his science team. He also busied himself with not replying to his father's missives. 

And reading his future self's letters to him. It fascinating, yet uncomfortable. 

While his father had corresponded with him in the past, he now wrote quite often. It was disconcerting, and Spock did not like it. It was as if he were mimicking what Mother had done naturally, since she had constantly sent him messages for years. 

He also liked to take note of what Jim and Leonard were doing. They occupied themselves oddly, he had found, what with the Captain's constant attendance at both private and public social gatherings, and with the Doctor's uneventful, silent life in his apartment. 

It was only much later that he found out they had been oftentimes hunting down the few rare Vulcan items that still existed--and procuring them for themselves. Instead of doling these things out, they gave them to Spock all at once on a random date, confusing him to all get out, as Leonard would say. It was very overwhelming. But that was in the future.

While Spock didn't call the Doctor by his sobriquet 'bones', he did enjoy the interplay of the duo. Their interaction was fascinating, despite Leonard's typical eye roll at the word. He seemed to dislike it for some reason. 

Spock could relate; he felt the same way about the Doctor addressing him by his rank. He did not prefer it. It was so much more pleasing to be called anything else, from his pet names for him [anything green or elf-like was in play, it seemed] to his actual name. To 'darling', said in his particular accent. [That was his favorite.]

Everyone in Starfleet was too afraid to call him anything but Commander; his father was much too powerful and important to do otherwise. It made life odd when every interaction was overly polite, too nice and just fake.

Jim tried to get the Doctor to bond with the rest of the crew, but it seemed Spock was the only one he was willing to spend time with. No one else got a nickname from McCoy, [or even light conversation, half the time], and Spock liked it that way. That was 'their thing'. 

All three of them ate together in the more secluded corner of the Officer's mess. There were a few fake plants blocking the area off into solitude. Spock had found the Doctor there one day, sitting by himself. He was reading a few padds while at the same as shoving food into his mouth. 

He was eeriely efficient for someone moving so fast.

It's Jim who gave Leonard the necklace, the carpe diem hourglass. Spock finds himself almost immediately thinking of when the Doctor smacks his palm against his forehead when he realizes something, or is exasperated. If he were human, he'd be tempted to do so. Leonard is very hard to buy gifts for. 

Jim has an advantage, having known him longer, but he has no suggestions for Spock.

The thing they share in common is their propensity to argue, or discuss varied topics as Spock prefers to term it, but there is nothing Spock can obtain and give to him in this vein.

He especially likes how the Doctor does not use words of pity, kindness or other human emotional variations on him. It always seems patronizing when humans [and other aliens as well] do that. Leonard acts like he's a solid tower, an unstoppable force. There is no pat ending to their arguments, McCoy often just takes his leave when he desires to. 

Everyone else tries to deal with him 'respectfully', but Spock is so tired of that. He wants honesty. And he doesn't need fake niceities either. 

Leonard has a dearth of niceities in his soul, Spock is certain. He treats him like an equal, someone to talk to without rank, power, strength, anything. Most humans don't bother to speak to Vulcans as 'people' who are unique, instead they give rote responses and go. Vulcans repay that poor favor in turn.

Inter-species sociability is very low. 

Spock appreciates the Doctor's continued wariness, or almost near suspicion of his father--he always checks in with him to let him know if Sarek approached him. Which turns out to be often. Spock immediately thinks of Leonard's grimace-shrug combination; it has a half-eyeroll at the end.

Sarek is highly respected in the Federation, which means Spock is often the subject of obnoxious toadying. He kind of loves how McCoy doesn't give a fuck. When Sarek tried to talk with him in front of Spock, he turned to him and asked, "You want me here?"

For once, Spock gets to be the most important person in the room. It feels amazing. He doesn't think he's ever met someone who cared more about him then his father. 

On earth, at Starfleet, he had met the Doctor several times. They, indeed, had had a kind of acquaintance. As a doctor already famous for successful research and many cures [or at least efficient new treatments], Leonard was in demand. Spock had come to him for a mandatory Starfleet physical. 

Spock had a habit of being prepared for any situation he could be--and this one was no different. He looked up the Doctor briefly before seeing him, and then extensively. McCoy had only begun working on researching treatments to the major alien diseases of Federation allies five years ago, but was already taking major ground in the several research papers he had already published. 

Oddly, his file listed extreme avaphobia and a notation marking him out as having been recruited personally--and to be convinced to stay, at whatever the cost. Few excellent doctors were willing to go into space, and fewer still would do so on a ship instead of at a starbase. In space, you had to have the best. There was no use for anyone who was not exceptional. 

And Leonard was, it turned out. Spock's fifteen minute appointment turned into an hourlong argument. And then a discussion that night when the Doctor got off work. 

Given his status, Leonard had been given a private apartment, special privileges and only had to complete certain Academy classes. Much of his time was partioned out for more research. If Earth could offer their Federation allies priceless cures, then McCoy's time was worth its weight in gold. 

They got on like a house on fire, as Leonard said. It had been immediate. And it had been during one of those arguments that Leonard had smoothed his hand across Spock's arm after grabbing it while making some point. As his hand slowly trailed down to the wrist, they both ran out of words and looked at it. 

Nonetheless, he was very shy. Nothing happened after that, not even a repetition, but Spock finds he doesn't care.

They met often at Spock's residence, as McCoy allowed Jim to study at his own, when he wanted a quieter place than his dorm. 

Spock is, and was, pleased with this. He has no desire for his time with the Doctor to be infringed upon or interrupted.

They go on outings sometimes, but both of them enjoy just being there, at home. He has many things bought specifically [though silently] for Leonard and some left by him, and their mix of items somehow feels organic and comforting to see. And be around. 

He drives the hovercraft his father insisted he have on earth when they venture out somewhere, but Leonard is not a fan. He sometimes hyperventilates, almost unknowingly, and alternates between yelling at him to slow down and watch the road [while his eyes are shut... ?!?!] and silently clutching the chair, white knuckled. 

Leonard never complains about the heat of his house. Spock had simply been so preoccupied the first time he invited him over that it didn't occur to him. It had simply been comfortable, one more comfort over so many others, like Leonard being there. 

He even smells good. They spend time near each other, and Spock adjusts to having someone present, near him, in his off hours. He finds he likes it. This feels like a preliminary type of togetherness, yet it's moving at his pace. Earth norms are so different, so alien to him, that he appreciates the Doctor's glacial course of action. He is also pleased that McCoy keeps mainly to himself, and his one friend, Jim. Though it seems more like he takes care of Jim rather than just act as a friend. He, in a word, likes to mother him. It reassures Spock, because he doesn't treat him like a child. He treats him like a potential partner. Not much has changed between those early days and now, years later. They are still in stasis. No progression is preferable, because it means things are still good, but Spock is beginning to wonder if he wants things to move forward.

[[In the future, they eventually go and stay for a short time on New Vulcan, mostly because they were close to it and the Doctor needs to rest for a while after his contraction of Xenopolycythemia. Spock arranges the trip, with Jim's support. McCoy was so tired he just shrugged, and said, "Whatever you want, just make it quiet." Their relationship has come to fruition by then, and Spock thinks of Jim and the Doctor as his family, despite their differently colored blood.

Spock has no interest in staying at his father's house, and feels little tie with him--a house which will now have some new wife of his, he assumes. Some new family to replace the experiment that was the old one. Spock kind of feels free at the thought. Instead, he books a Terran hotel that is the best on the planet. New Vulcan was given to the elders by the Federation, and is rich in dilithium crystals, allowing them to build up the race's wealth.

A byproduct of this is a larger alien population on the planet, and hotels created to house them. Spock finds one with soundproof walls and air conditioning, along with minor gravity tweaking for their suite of rooms. 

To his relief, Leonard is indeed comfortable there, and Spock busies himself as he waits for the inevitable visit of his father. He understands that his father must take a new wife, but did he ever treat the old one how she deserved? Spock doesn't think so. 

They aren't there yet. Jim often hesitates, changing course with his words, leaving Spock to wonder what is ahead of them. He's sure Jim would warn him if he and McCoy have no future, though. He seems to love Leonard almost as his own. 

Thankfully, he doesn't make a play for him, though. Spock would not like that]].

He is learning firsthand how to compromise with Leonard, how to honor his culture while he in turn respects Spock's traditions. Over their time together, he's been slowly introducing him to his traditions and practices [...the ones he cares about, at least]. And well, maybe he hasn't explained them in words, but he's allowed McCoy to be there, to see it all. To be with him.

He's still shocked, though, when his father comments in a missive to him that the Doctor has quite the grasp on the words of Surak--in the original. Apparently, he likes the pacifism of it. Spock had noticed beginner Vulcan texts around his endless, messy stacks of padds, printouts, notes and mail, but never commented on it. That is Leonard's business.

If he wanted to talk about it, he would. God knows he talks about everything else, as Jim has often muttered. The Doctor is very opinionated.


	4. Chapter 4

It is a great comfort to him that he can sense Leonard's feelings without completing the ozh'esta. Without having to take such a serious step, without opening himself completely, he can still feel his dearest friend. 

He cannot think of it in any other terms, they all sound silly. 

As the Doctor recovers from his short illness [due only to the intervention of his alternate self's notes for him], they finally come together. It is difficult for Spock, and for Jim too, he thinks, to deal with Leonard's potential death. The two of them have skirted that state many times, but not Leonard.

He has little frame of reference for how the Doctor will be as a lover, for how their relationship will change, or not. They typically maintain a type of calm tumult, in Spock's opinion. 

It turns out McCoy is an excellent massager of wrists, something Spock finds he values highly. Their time together has an even more pleasurable edge, now. Since he's still recovering, Spock limits their interaction. It is, in effect, his way or the highway; just hands or nothing. 

To be frank, it feels rather exotic, to do this in their cozy hotel room, this place of healing. Leonard has come back from near constant sleeping to real health here, and Spock senses that things are going very well between them. 

Jim pops in and out, doing whatever it is that he does. Spock isn't too concerned with it at the moment. 

He pushes a little of the white hot joy and sensuous ecstacy he feels during the moments Leonard strokes his hands and up and down to his wrists over to Leonard through their skin contact; it's a result of their connection that oddly, continually seems to surprise the Doctor. While Spock's hands are naturally conduits for psychic and emotive resonances, Leonard's are not, so he must deliberately send him impressions and feelings.

It's clumsy, since it is not a mind meld, but merely a skin to skin connection. Spock can feel that bond in his mind though, and it's even stronger when they touch. Leonard, however, seems to feel little in that vein, [he has not asked him] and is taken aback every time he gives him a rush of pleasure.

He relaxes, after a few seconds, but it's clearly a shock every time. Spock kind of likes that about it, how it's not blase to him, it's unexpected, surprising, spectacular. His favorite is when Leonard puts his fingers in his mouth, which is actually better than normative intimate relations, in his opinion. 

Vice versa, though, he's unsure about. Leonard doesn't really express his opnions or feelings about certain subjects--and how very ironic is that, he thinks. There have been many times when he simply put his hand on his face, melded them for a second, and the intense, uncontrollable ecstacy he felt mixed with Leonard's own pleasure. It seems like he can't stop shaking as it happens, every time. It's just too overpowering, too good. 

The Doctor seems reticent when it comes to naming what he'd like, or what he wants.


	5. Chapter 5

When they set out on their next deep space mission, Spock is pleased. He and Jim are hurled into a new adventure, and Leonard, follows, muttering [it's a soothing background noise, really]. Unfortunately, for the first time, he and McCoy get into a real argument. 

Real enough that they stop talking. They've never done that before. Like usual, the Doctor wants to break the prime directive to save lives, but it cannot be done. Even Jim agrees this time, though he looks green around the edges, which is not a healthful color on him. 

Jim and McCoy retreat off to his office together, day after day. It takes Spock an embarrasing amount of time to realize he's been left behind. 

Permanently. And here he was the least insecure one, he thought unhappily. Jim had always dragged promises of staying with him in space out of both of them; Leonard had always demanded that he didn't want to die alone [on pain of haunting both of them in revenge afterwards]. 

Spock had never behaved thus. He had felt secure in their affection, their friendship. After all, didn't he have the advantage? He could literally read their thoughts, sense their feelings. 

For all the good that had done, he thought, morose, as he lit incense in his room for meditation. He and Leonard had spent no time together at all for the past few weeks, and Jim had been pale and quiet. The Doctor hadn't even come up to the Bridge once, which is very out of character.

And Jim has even gone down to Medical while on shift, leaving Spock in charge. He's not pleased. Significant glances with other crew members reveal they don't know either; he asks them individually to be sure, but no one knows.

He almost felt like calling his father just to talk to someone and complain. Of course, then reason kicks in. He doesn't call.

It takes a week more before Leonard calls on him in his room after his shift. He doesn't look happy. Spock has reconciled himself with fate. He will deal with this. Whatever grievance he has against him, he'll make amends. It will be fine. 

Leonard smooths a hand over his face, and forces out, "I need to talk to you about Tarsus."

Spock tilts his head unconsciously and blinks. What? Before he can get a word out, he continues. "Jim's been having... some problems. I'm concerned, I well, just about him." He clears his throat. "I want us away from this planet as soon as possible. Find some reason we have to leave."

Spock stares at him. This was not what he was expecting. "Send me a message once we're away from here, and cook up some big science or engineering thing--yeah, engineering, some important thing like with the warp cores or something--that Jim has to help decide on, but just a little," Leonard rushes to add the last bit. "I mean, you pick it, and everything, but let him have some input, okay?"

Spock nods, but as he opens his mouth, Leonard says, "Good," absentmindedly, and leaves. He's left staring at the closed door. What just happened?

**Author's Note:**

> **FYI I take commissions, just message me : )


End file.
